


Cookies

by LadyLienDa



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cookies, Gen, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 06:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12625056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLienDa/pseuds/LadyLienDa
Summary: Platonic VLD Week 2017Hunk is feeling underappreciated, and Pidge wants to do something to make up for it.Written for Day 3: Tricks/Treats





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit late, but I guess it's better than never!
> 
> Edit: 11-5-17  
> Ohmygosh the HTML totally ate my handy bullet-points that broke up the scenes. But now I've figured out those cool horizontal lines! Should be easier to read now!

Pidge had never considered herself a particularly observant person, unless it was in the way of technology. Social cues and body language from others tended to go unnoticed. She wasn’t as hopeless as Keith, who was a walking social nightmare, but she still missed a good deal of the unspoken communication people gave off when interacting.

            So when Hope asked her one day while they were tearing apart a power diverter in the control room next to the teludav if she had noticed anything unusual with Hunk, she was somewhat surprised. She replied with no, she hadn’t, and could-you-hold-those-wires-and-don’t-let-them-touch-please-thank-you? It might have come out a bit cross, but Hope didn’t seem to mind. She was used to Pidge’s blunt nature, especially when she was working on something.

            “What’s wrong?” Pidge asked somewhat absentmindedly as she crawled out of the hatch and pressed a button on the comm unit clipped to the collar of her shirt.

            “Okay, Coran, try it now.” She said, then turned back to where Hope was crouched on the floor amidst a carpet of tools, wires, nuts, and bolts.

            Hope didn’t answer right away. She was too focused on the new computer chip she was creating out of a chunk of scrap metal. The teal earrings she’d fashioned out of her Olkarian headdress glowed softly and her eyes were narrowed in concentration. Once she’d finished with one of the tiny components, she sat up and wiped her brow.

            “Well, it’s nothing huge.” She answered. “But I was just saying Hunk seemed a little off yesterday and I was wondering if anyone else had noticed it or if I was just going crazy.”

            “I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.” Said Pidge. “I’m not very people-smart. Why don’t you ask Lance? I’ll bet if you’ve noticed something, he’ll have.”

            Hope replied that no, she hadn’t asked him yet.

            “What kind of ‘wrong’ have you noticed?” Pidge asked. The conversation was halted momentarily when Coran’s voice came over the comm saying the control button still wasn’t working. Cursing under her breath, Pidge seized a wrench and began unscrewing the power coupling again.

            “Nothing huge,” said Hope, not realizing she was repeating her words from earlier, “but he seemed a bit down yesterday. You weren’t at supper last night, but he didn’t make it. Coran did.”

            Pidge snorted. “Was it edible?”

            “Most of us politely declined, then came back later for a bowl of food goo.” Hope replied with a grimace. “Even Hunk, which is why I thought something was wrong. He wouldn’t allow Coran to make a mess of supper without having some say about it.”

            “Maybe he’s sick?” Pidge suggested, wracking her brain for scenarios from her time with Hunk and Lance at the Garrison where he’d displayed similar symptoms. She became frustrated when she couldn’t think of any specific examples, and she cursed herself for not having paid enough attention.

            “Could be.” Hope conceded. “I should probably just ask Hunk himself what’s up.”

            Pidge muttered something in reply and the conversation died as each lapsed into their own train of thought. But Hope had given Pidge plenty to think about. Her words had opened Pidge’s eyes to things other than technology, and she felt somewhat guilty for not having noticed it earlier. What kind of friend was she, if Hope had noticed before she did?

            Whatever the case, Pidge resolved to get to the bottom of this before Hope did.

* * *

 

            Lance was able to provide some insight, and he thankfully didn’t comment on her apparent cluelessness.

            “I’m afraid it’s my fault.” He said when Pidge found him later after she and Hope were done with the control room. He cast her a sheepish look and rubbed the back of his neck.

            “See, I made some stupid comment the other night about Hunk’s latest creation. You know, those things that were supposed to be kind of like egg rolls but didn’t turn out right?”

            Pidge vaguely remembered him saying something about them, but she’d been engrossed in a conversation with Coran, so she hadn’t picked up on all of it.

            “And?” She prompted further.

            “Anyway, I think it probably hurt his feelings. He seemed really subdued later, and that’s not like him.”

            “Well, do you think he’s still mad? It’s not like Hunk to hold a grudge, at least not against his friends.”

            “You’re right.” Said Lance, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s feeling underappreciated? We _have_ been taking his food for granted lately.”

            Pidge nodded, remembering with some remorse how she would often take a break from her tech projects to run up to the kitchen, grab a plate of whatever Hunk had been cooking, then hurry back down to the lab without so much a s a thank-you. She realized that Lance’s rather perceptive analysis had probably hit the proverbial nail on the head.

            _Well, at least someone’s good at picking up on social things like this._ She thought, wishing she’d noticed it before Hope had called her attention to it.

            “Should we try to make it up to him?” She wondered aloud.

            Lance smiled. “That’s a good idea. But what could we do? None of us know how to cook as well as he does.”

            Pidge smiled. “We don’t have to cook ‘as well’ as him. Just good enough to be better than Coran.”

            “Right on the money, Pidge.” Said Lance, getting up from the couch and stretching. “Where’s Hope?”

* * *

 

            “What is going on in here?” Shiro asked, coming into the kitchen. Lance, Hope, and Pidge all looked up from the bowl of batter they were bending over. Pidge assumed they looked to him like a group of children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

            “We’re trying to make some cookies.” Lance replied, and Hope shot him an incredulous look.

            “ _Trying_ to?” She repeated, swatting him on the arm. “Excuse me! _You_ were the one who asked _me_ to do it since you – what were your words – _make brownies taste like meatloaf_?”

            Shiro snorted, like he was trying to keep from laughing. Lance threw up his hands in an ‘I-give-up’ gesture, while Pidge only grinned and stuck her finger in the batter, licking it before Hope could turn around and notice.

            “Well, what’s the occasion?” Shiro asked, grabbing one of those water pouches that look like Capri-sun packages and sitting down at the counter. “No offense, but you guys aren’t usually the ‘cooking type.’”

            “You’re right.” Said Pidge, picking up a cookie sheet sitting on the edge of the counter and bringing it over to the bowl. “We aren’t. But Hope and Lance noticed Hunk hasn’t been super chipper lately, so we decided to do something nice for him.” They each picked up a spoon and began to drop dollops of batter onto the sheet. 

            “Yeah, he does all the cooking around here.” Lance piped up. “Nobody ever makes anything for him.”

            The corners of Shiro’s mouth twitched. “Would this have anything to do with those egg roll disasters from two nights ago?”

            Hope, Pidge, and Lance exchanged glances. There was no hiding anything from Shiro. “Yeah, you could say that.” Said Lance, looking sheepish.

            “It was Pidge’s idea.” Said Hope, setting aside the full cookie sheet and reaching for another. “She felt bad about not noticing Hunk’s unusual attitude and decided we should do something to make it up to him.”

            Pidge cringed slightly. Trust Hope to say it like it is, without any sugar-coating.

            Shiro raised one eyebrow. “I see.” He said, taking a sip from his water pouch. “How’d you get Hunk out of the kitchen? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

            Lance grinned. “I had Keith show him a few techniques on the gladiator.” He said, sounding proud of himself. “I thought it would be a decent distraction.”

            “At any rate, it will keep him out of the kitchen for a few vargas.” Said Hope. The oven door chimed tunefully, signaling it was ready to bake. Hope slid on a pair of oven mitts before picking up the cookie sheet and sliding it into the oven.

            “Now all we have to do is keep him from noticing the smell, if it happens that Keith can’t keep him in the training room for longer.” Said Pidge, adjusting her seat on the counter.

            “Should only take another ten dobashes.” Said Hope as she adjusted the timer.

            “And hope they’ll turn out,” said Lance, “or it’ll have all been for nothing.”

            “Are you doubting my baking skills?” Hope asked, whirling on Lance with a threatening look on her face. “Keep that up, and I’ll kick you out and let Shiro have the first bite.”

            Lance feigned contriteness. “Me, insult you? Never. Banish the thought!” He draped one hand over his forehead dramatically. “Plus, you can’t kick me out. I’m so hot, you almost don’t need the oven!”

            Hope picked up the rolling pin and slapped her other palm with it. There was a devilish look on her face. “Wanna bet?” She asked.

            As the two continued to banter back and forth, Pidge slid down from the counter and grabbed a water pouch for herself before plopping down on the stool next to Shiro.

            “I just hope they turn out.” She said quietly, over Hope’s shrill voice as she shouted insults at Lance. “I don’t doubt Hope can make a good treat, but I want it to be special for Hunk.”

            “Knowing Hunk,” said Shiro, setting down his empty pouch, “I’d say he won’t care if they’re good or not. He’ll be touched at the thought. It shows you care enough to make him something.”

            “And that’s why I wanted to make him these cookies in the first place.” Said Pidge. “Lance said he’s probably feeling underappreciated. That comment he made about those… _interesting_ …egg rolls really set Hunk on edge.”

            Shiro nodded. “Yes, I’d thought as much. Hunk isn’t really the type to take things like that personally, but I guess it was a bunch of different things all boiling together at once.”

            “Hope said something similar once Lance explained his theory. I guess even Hunk gets tired of being underappreciated.”

            They lapsed into silence as Hope chased Lance around the kitchen and then out the door and down the hall.

            “The question is,” said Shiro, “are _you_ alright?”

            “What do you mean?” Pidge asked. Inwardly, she sighed. No one could hide anything from Shiro for long.

            Shiro frowned, seemingly gathering his thoughts before speaking. “Hope said you were feeling bad about not noticing his attitude.”

            “Well, it was Hope who first brought it up.” Pidge said. “I didn’t realize something was wrong until she said so.” Taking another sip from her pouch, she looked down at the counter and kicked her heels. “I guess I was just frustrated I hadn’t noticed, seeing as I’ve known him longer than Hope has.”

            Shiro nodded, as if her word were confirming what he’d already suspected.

            “Well, you shouldn’t take it personally.” Said Shiro. “I haven’t been very appreciative myself. Who knew this was something Hunk needed, but never asked for?”

            When Pidge didn’t answer, he patted her on the back affectionately. “Don’t worry too much about it. We all learned something, and I’m sure it’ll be just fine. Hunk will appreciate the effort.”

            Pidge smiled, feeling better. “Well, the cookies won’t be fine if Hope doesn’t get her butt back in here and tell us if they’re done or not. I wonder if she’s pulverized Lance yet?”

* * *

 

            “Oh, wow.” Said Hunk, his eyes lighting up as he bit into a fresh sugar cookie. “These are great! Thanks, Hope!”

            “Don’t thank me.” Said Hope, although she was elbowing Lance as she spoke. “It was Pidge’s idea.”

            Pidge bounced uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. Why did she feel so awkward? It was only Hunk.

            The Yellow Paladin turned to her, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m really touched, Pidge. Thank you.”

            Pidge felt tears well up in her eyes and suddenly she was rushing forward and wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around his waist, which wasn’t far.

            “I’m so sorry!” She wailed, hugging him tighter. “I didn’t notice you were feeling bad because we were taking you for granted and I’m sorry! We never meant to make you feel underappreciated!”

            Hunk seemed momentarily taken aback before scooping her up in one of his signature bear-hugs.

            “You don’t have to be sorry, Pidge.” He said. “I know you’ve had a lot on your mind lately. We all have.”

            “That doesn’t excuse how we treated you!” She said, sniffling.

            “Maybe not, but I forgive you anyway.” Said Hunk.

            Pidge let out an awkward sort of giggle, the involuntary kind that comes after surges of emotion like these. What did any of them do to deserve Hunk as a friend?

            “Now no more frowns!” Hunk declared. He picked up another cookie and held it aloft.

            “Here’s to us!”

            “To us!” Everyone echoed.

            And just like that, everything was alright.


End file.
